The Potion
by Katalo10
Summary: All the Defender's have had enough of Thorne lately. And Thorne decides to do something about it.


**A/N: This will be Chapter 1 of about 3 chapters.**

**I hope you enjoy this!**

**Disclaimer: I do no own Splatalot.**

As Thorne sat in his dimly lit lab, he breathed a heavy sigh, once again angry at the world. The alchemist wasn't preparing any slime or goo, or mixing any potions; he just sat, sulking. Glancing downward toward the ground, he spotted the broken glass and spilled liquid he had yet to clean up, reminding him of the previous events of the day.

* * *

The day in the castle had begun with Kook, once again, attempting to win the heart of Thornes' ninja sister, Shaiden. Thorne had watched the ridiculous scene as Kook tried to impress the ninja with his "new dance moves." Shaiden, smiling awkwardly, had politely complimented the bird, then told him she needed some new moves herself. New moves, that is, in the art of ninjutsu. Thorne had rolled his eyes in disapproval, scoffing, and later had a brief conversation with Shaiden.

"Why don't you just tell him to fluff up his feathers and move along?" Thorne grumbled to Shaiden, fiddling with his Mulching Mace, sharpening the already dangerous spikes.

"Unlike you, I'm not rude to others, only trying to show their affection. He's just being nice," Shaiden retorted as she round-kicked the air.

Thorne gave her his second eye-roll of the hour, then arose with his Mulching Mace and headed to his lab. Shaiden watched her annoyed brother walk away, wondering what he was thinking. She knew her brother was just trying to watch out for her, but she also knew his seemingly permanent grumpiness about everything had also just come into play. "I hardly remember what it's like to see him in a good mood," she sighed, returning to her flying kicks.

* * *

Thorne carefully placed his Mace in its holder, steadying it so it wouldn't tip over, then sat at his desk. He needed to make some more slime for the next Attackers. As he began to stir and mix chemicals and ingredients, a certain green-haired bird stumbled into the lab.

As the kookaburra fell onto Thorne, he fumbled the liquid in his hands and dropped it onto the ground. It tumbled an inch then shattered, finite pieces of glass scattered along the floor and a lime-green substance oozing out of it.

Thorne pushed Kook off of him and slammed him against the wall, and foot away from his Mace. Thorne gave Kook a murderous stare, his soft grey eyes turning steel-like as the bird winced.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Kook yelped, hoping the English alchemist wouldn't permanently damage his feathers-or face.

Thorne released Kook from his tight grip, then took a steady, deep, breath, reminded of some advice Crocness had given him.

"What are you doing?" Thorne questioned, clenching his teeth and staring down at Kook.

"Well ya see, I was just...um...running from Gildar?" Kook answered, cracking a goofy, but awkward smile.

Thorne let out a low growl Kooks' seemingly indifferent attitude, causing a startled reaction from the bird.

"Just. Get. OUT OF HERE!" Thorne yelled, not restraining the volume of his voice. After muttering, "Look who's in a bad mood again," Kook hightailed his feathers out of there, laughing in the distance. Following his laugh came a mighty, "THERE you are!" from a drenched Viking carrying a mirror.

* * *

After the Kook disaster, Thorne had found it impossible to concentrate in the disarray around him. To escape the disorder in his lab, he decided to take a visit to the Stockade.

Thorne shoved his hands in the pockets of his faded, blue, biker pants. He walked along slowly, grumbling to himself, as usual. As he approached the Stockade, he heard the confident voice of a skilled huntress conversing with the slightly deeper voiced, mysterious croc-woman.

"Just great," Thorne muttered, halfway turning on his heel to walk the opposite direction. If there was one thing that Thorne DID like it was being alone most of the time. Thorne was not feeling particularly sociable as swamp woman and archer noticed him.

"Thorne, where ya going?" Ballista called, observing his instant attempt at retreating from them. Ballista knew Thorne was about to avoid them. She wouldn't let him get away that easily.

"I was just leaving," Thorne retorted, not in any mood for a conversation.

"Don't you ever just want to have a little chat," Crocness paused for a moment before smirking, imitating an Australian accent, adding, "Thorny?"

Thorne abruptly stopped and stiffened, clenching his hand into a fist. Ballista and Crocness burst into a fit of laughter as Thorne turned around, his face turning a glowing shade of red.

As Thorne gave an icy glare at the two laughing females, they became aware of his seriousness and tried to refrain from their laughter.

Ballista, out of breath, flipped her blond locks at the infuriated alchemist. "Lighten up, Thorne. Have a sense of humor once in a while," she suggested, now braiding some strands of hair.

"Like _that's_ possible," Crocness grinned slyly.

In the midst of this, Tinkor had been keenly observing the scene, holding a large invention in his grimy hands. Seeing that Thorne was on the brink of nearly imploding with anger, Tinkor decided it would be hilarious if he pushed Thorne to his limit. He would soon find out that was not a wise decision.

Tinkor took the new, portable slime-ball launcher in his hands, and aimed directly at Thorne. Letting out a partially-insane laugh, Thorne whipped his head around, directly looking soot-covered inventor.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE TODAY?" fumed Thorne, dripping with green slime.

"We're just having some fun, something _you_ should try, sweetie," Ballista teased, still a bit frightened by Thorne's sudden outburst.

Thorne, enraged, began to storm out of the Stockade, still hearing the chattering of the other Defenders.

"He's always mad, but he's been just SCARY lately," Crocness admitted to Ballista.

"I think that Thorne just needs a break...from the world," Ballista responded, filing her nails.

* * *

Throne returned his mind from the flashback as he rested his chin in his hands.  
The irritated remarks of the Defenders from the day echoed throughout his head. Sure, Thorne was always feeling especially detestable around the ever-prakning Kook. Ballista and Crocness could have their moments of getting on his nerves as well. Thinking further, he realized he hadn't exactly treated Shaiden very nicely earlier in the day either. Shaiden had been acting fed up towards Thorne lately, as well as all of the other Defenders.

Thorne heaved another sigh as he realized that even his own sister didn't want to associate with him. He usually didn't care what the others thought, but so many of them were tired of him at one time, his heart was feeling just a slight twang of guilt.

Suddenly, an idea began forming in the alchemists mind, and the feeling of guilt began tugging at his hard, closed up, heart.

Thorne, locking the door to his lab, got to work, disregarding the mess. The intensity of his concentration was unbreakable. Smoke and pungent aromas swirled around in the air. Bubbling noises and pops occurred as Thorne came closer to finishing his task.

Finishing mixing the last ingredient, Thorne stepped back, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow and briefly adjusting the unplaced hairs on his Mohawk. Holding a beaker in hand, he examined the bubbling, pink, liquid.

"Here goes nothing," he breathed, gulping down the fluid.

Thorne had created a potion he would never had expected to make.

It was a potion to make him nice.


End file.
